


Are you... you ?

by AdriLiamAi



Category: Moriarty the, 憂国のモリアーティ | Yuukoku no Moriarty | Moriarty the Patriot (Manga)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:21:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27724081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdriLiamAi/pseuds/AdriLiamAi
Summary: " Lord of Crime, I promise I will kill you.Liam, I promise I will save you. "
Kudos: 21





	Are you... you ?

The story takes place after the events of the 2nd novel "Kinjirareta Asobi". 

\- Waaw, that was divine Liam! You managed! Cried the famous detective Sherlock Holmes as the two men got into the car.  
\- Hehe, let's see .. without you, I couldn't have done anything ...  
\- Mr Modesty ?  
-I'm serious.  
He's serious, Sherlock thought, he's serious. And he's right. During all this game I was dancing in the palm of his hand.  
I was his puppet, a puppet he controlled without even moving his fingers.  
The puppet was moving on its own, as he wanted it to move because if it did not move as he wanted, the threads that held it will cut and it will fall to the ground. Even more dead than ever.

Lord of Crime and the Detective. The detective and the Lord of Crime.  
One does not go without the other, the two are linked.

Because of his role, the detective is obliged to follow the Lord of Crime in his dance over and over and over again.  
But, if the detective refuses to reach out the hand, who will the Lord of Crime dance with? 

One does not go without the other, the two are linked by the same thread which makes them move once from one side to the other.

The Lord of Crime leads the dance, because he has the privilege of it but above all he knows how his partner dances.  
The detective lets himself be led because he feels that the Lord of Crime makes him dance in the right rhythm.  
He leaves him no choice but to follow him .. but this kind of game is played by two...  
The detective just needs to take a side step, a bad move, just something that will knock his partner off balance.  
Something he never expected .. and this is the perfect opportunity to change the dance and lead at your own pace.  
That was what, the detective thought to himself, he should to do.  
The only solution to catch the Lord of Crime.  
The one and above all the hardest.  
How, what not to do, what are you supposed to do? How not to do as you will have done? How not to act as yourself?

Sherlock suddenly woke up from his thoughts, there's Liam next to him! He can't afford to leave the young man alone without a conversation. 

As bizarre as it sounded, Sherlock was no big talker.  
He only spoke (and in these cases, good luck stopping him) when the topic interested him.  
If not, he was rather mute, lost somewhere deep in his thoughts, in his "world" as Miss Hudson would have said.  
He's always been like that.  
"Weird" yes, that's what people usually describe him as.  
A strange man, an eternal immature and callous kid.  
He was different, he would never follow the group if he didn't agree with their logic.  
It was this difference that made his experience the worst times at Oxbridge.  
The current social class, certainly unequal but above all stifling. Stifling because of its conventionalism.  
Any screw that sticks out gets knocked on until it clicks into place, tight like any other. They don't care if to return, it will be broken a little.  
If, on the other hand, despite all the tests they do not manage to get it in, they remove it and simply throw it away.  
That was the system they lived in. 

Vigilante bandit, he thought suddenly as he remembered that that was the profile he assigned to the Lord of Crime. 

He glanced at William, he too seemed lost in his thought.

Liam, maybe the only person he could listen to talk for hours and hours. Even uninteresting topics took a whole new turn with him. It was as if the subject was gaining freshness and originality. Original.  
Liam was really original that we can not say the opposite.  
A nobleman, and not just any: a son of an earl!  
A man of such a high social class, he had everything to live a dream life.  
Yet he differed from other nobles.  
He seemed to live like everyone else. He lived comfortably, but not too much either. He was not the kind of man to indulge in overpriced luxuries, to take advantage (even if it means abusing like some) the chance life gave him to have been born there and not elsewhere.  
He was well behaved, he respected everyone.  
That was what set him apart the most from the rest.  
He didn't seem to mix people up.  
Poor or rich, Liam spoke to them the same way. He looked at them the same way.

Why was he like this? Why is Liam Liam? How is Liam?  
These are all the big yet unanswered question of the mystery Sherlock named "Liam".  
In truth, he knows almost nothing about the young man.  
Of course he, when they talk, can gather information about him but this information, how can he know hey are true and not carefully prepared by William in advance?  
William is a great living enigma.  
Even more than the Lord of Crime, it was the "Liam" riddle that the detective found most interesting.  
The most mysterious.  
And despite his belief that the two are one and the same, Sherlock finds the mystery surrounding the two to be entirely different.  
Liam and the Lord of Crime.  
The enigma of the Lord of Crime lies in his motivations, his movements, his ingenuity and his incredible intelligence.  
A true genius of crime. But a criminal, one of the greatest criminals the world has ever known. The devil leading the other devils to hell.

Liam. Who was Liam really? The Lord of Crime? Yes, but not just that.  
He was also Liam and Liam is not like the Lord of Crime.  
It was weird to split this man like that in two but, after spending time with him, Sherlock couldn't tell himself that Liam was like the Lord of Crime.  
It was hard to explain, but it was like in William lived two personalities.  
The Lord of Crime and Liam.  
Sherlock did a consistent profiling of the Lord of Crime but Liam? Who was he at the end? What was he really like?  
The only thing Sherlock managed to capture about his personality was that he didn't have one. Or rather, that she was constantly suffocating.  
Smother, scramble and hide somewhere where the young man's bottom.  
Hide so far away that he himself must have difficulty to seeing it.  
Did he himself know that he existed? As a unique and special personality?  
Mask on mask. He adapted to his interlocutor and environment. No spontaneity, all actions, all sayings were carefully prepared. He thought and behaved in the most appropriate way with people. In the right way, the one that will make him achieve what he was looking for.  
Sometimes a loving and protective big brother, sometimes a severe but paternal math teacher, sometimes the second son of Count Moriarty, worthy of high society.  
Professor, big brother, Will, William James Moriarty, Lord of Crime.  
All of his people were well known, but Liam.  
Who was he at the end?  
Is he like the others? Sherlock didn't know, but he doubted it.  
He didn't know what to think.  
When he finally thought he had discovered something about the real Liam, this latter, borderline as if on purpose, either gave him entirely different information or left him in doubt.  
" What if you got it all wrong? "  
This is the question that often comes up in the "Liam" enigma.

It's like in the train, he perfectly dismantled his bluff on the fact that Hope had told him the name of the Lord of Crime.  
Hand on hand, gaze dancing calmly between his hands and the detective's eyes and his response, uttered in a voice so soft and natural : I can't prove it's not me.  
Seriously, his answer was perfect!  
All the play around was perfect and felt almost natural.  
It's as if human psychology holds no secrets for him, not to mention his excellent mastery of eristics.  
What good, can all his sleight of hand worthy of the greatest politicians be used for a fucking math teacher!

Anyway, Liam was a mystery.  
A mystery Sherlock vowed to solve.  
This man attracts him he can't lie to himself, the Lord of Crime is always an excuse (valid and relevant) to only approach Liam.  
He really developed a “soft point” towards him. And he even has the impression, sometimes, for a few rare seconds, to see through his unspeakable montages of masks, the glow of the real Liam.  
Seeing for even a short time his true face is priceless.  
He has seen that face several times.  
At the time, he didn't realize it, it was only after replaying all of his scenes in his head that he realized it.

The first time was on the Noahtic, when he figured out his line of work.  
For a few seconds, a state of surprise, a natural and spontaneous reaction, was seen on Liam's face.  
And then as quickly as it appeared it vanished to give way to a scrutinizing and controlled gaze.  
Also in the train, the surprise on his face when he came to see him, the surprise in his eyes when he called him for the first time "Liam".  
The words he said when he walked him to the station after the affair with Bill.  
This afternoon, when he was chatting about his paradoxes, when he explained to him the difference between theory and intuition, he had seen something on his face (and for the moment he was unable to put a word to this impression) true.  
That burst of laughter he gave when the detective pouted was sincere too.  
Sherlock was sure it was.  
There were during this day, a few small moments when "Liam" was present.  
But, .. did that help him to better understand the young man sitting right next to him?  
No.  
On the contrary, it still has folds to entangle the brushes.

"Mr. Holmes," William said suddenly in a slightly weakened voice.  
\- Hmm? The latter replied a little puzzled. Liam looked weird. His eyes were smaller, more tired, his complexion had paled a little. He saw William yawn several times before answering him, his voice weaker and weaker and entered, cut off by uncontrollable yawns.  
\- I .. I have sometimes… moments that are a little out of control… where I… can't help but… fa..al..asl… eep….  
It was on this word that William's eyes closed, his whole body fell forward.  
Sherlock hurried to put him back properly against the back of the chair, he was completely still but still saw that he was only sleeping and that his condition did not deserve to be alarmed.  
...  
Sherlock returns to his world of thought while enjoying a good cigarette.  
He was looking at the countryside of Whitley Chapel, classic as any country town but charming.His gaze, sometimes aware of his surroundings, sometimes not, from time to time made a little detour on the young man next to him.  
Is he still sleeping? Is he okay?  
Sherlock in his subconscious had to be sure.  
There was still about 40 minutes of road left to reach Durham.  
….

The sight of the great Durham Cathedral freed Sherlock from his thoughts. More than 5/10 min and we arrived, he thought, maybe we should wake him.  
“Liam,” the detective began. No answer.  
"LIAM" he continued a little louder. Still no answer. Not even any movement. He was sleeping soundly, there was no doubt.  
"Liam .." he continued this time, lightly touching the young man's shoulder.  
Always nothing.  
This time, he ran his hands over the professor's ribs and gently moved his fingers over them. Zero reaction again.  
Still, the detective would have sworn William was very ticklish. At least he looked so ...

After trying several other ways to wake Liam unsuccessfully, Sherlock figured that he couldn't wake him and would have to wait for him to wake up on his own.  
22 AM. The last train to London must leave in less than 30 minutes, the detective thought, if he doesn't wake up sooner, I'm going to be in big trouble.  
….  
Finnaly, he missed his train.  
William hadn't woken up at the stop, Sherlock had to carry him to a quiet place where no one would see them.

He wondered what his students would say if they would see him carrying William on his shoulder as if he was deadly drunk.  
It would be funny in the class, he said to himself, if a student ask him "Hey sir, we had a good time on Friday don't we ..?  
And Liam with an astonished look on his face would have replied "Huh?" By opening his eyes wide in complete astonishment.

Opening his eyes widely and his mouth slightly is his way of playing astonishment or surprise. (It's his spontaneous way of doing things too, Sherlock added, but most of the time he just plays it.)  
It gives him an innocent, really sweet side.  
In short, to avoid shaming to the professor, the detective took him to a small, lightly lit park.  
He made hin sit on a bench, which he himself is sitting on, smoking yet another cigarette.  
William's head was now on his shoulder. He was still sleeping soundly.  
Suddenly, a sort of obvious, bizarre feeling hit the detective.  
His eyes were now fixed on the young man's face.  
“… But it's true… I just remembered that Liam is only 24… so young…. ".  
The thought squeezed his heart a little.  
Liam's high intellectual / cultural level had completely made Sherlock forget how young he was!  
It is true that his character did not suit the situation, William was such a serious person for his age….  
He carefully observed the features of the young man's face, attentively, in every detail.  
He had never seen it so close before.  
He is really good looking, there was no room for any debate here. If anyone was saying the opposite, they were lying.  
A face almost without imperfections in the shape of a diamond, a fine and graceful nose, a delicate mouth, carefully defined lips.  
Now they were closed, but his eyes also put him to his advantage.  
This ruby red, both passionate and dangerous.  
Sherlock couldn't help suppressing the small smile that took place on his face.  
It was his "soft point" for William that was starting to light up.

He put his hand delicately on Liam's neat blonde hair and stroked it, very gently, while staring intently, with a look full of gentleness and kindness, at the sleepy eyes of this young man who interested him so much.  
After several minutes, he looked away, lit his cigarette and smoked it, observing his surroundings without really seeing it.

The hand always caressing the delicate hair of his "enemy".


End file.
